


My Cute Otari

by Bittodeath



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Holding Hands, M/M, Post-Canon, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, barcelona, the line is kinda blurry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-08 23:32:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8867656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bittodeath/pseuds/Bittodeath
Summary: Yurio looks at his hand holding Otabek's tightly and wonders how it came to this.How things are changing for something better.





	

**Author's Note:**

> There are like a few F-words but I didn't feel like it was enough to justify a T rating. Pure fluff.  
> [Written just after episode 11 - so I went with Pichit winning the Finals. Because reasons.]

Yurio wasn’t sure how it all started. _No, fuck, I perfectly know how it started._ It started when he found himself hiding in the streets of Barcelona, chased by his fangirls. _Or did it start way before that?_ It started when Otabek Altin stopped beside him on his motorbike and offered his help. _Did it really start like that?_ There had been no other solution so Yurio had climbed behind him, grabbing the bike tightly. And at some point his arms had been around Otabek’s waist, he didn’t really know how. _No I perfectly know how, I just slid my arms around him because I didn’t want to fall._

It had all started because Otabek wanted to be friends with him. _Friends. With him._ And he had been quite forward about that, and somehow… Yurio had agreed. _No, not somehow. I made the conscious decision to trust him. To learn to know him. To like him. To be his friend._ It wasn’t a bad decision, considering all of Yurio’s friends. Otabek was the closest in age. But there was also something else. _The eyes of a soldier._ Otabek had called him a soldier – and if Yurio was a soldier, then Otabek was some kind of warrior god and- _Wait. Where does this come from?_ Oh he knows where it comes from. He was probably contaminated by Viktor’s cheesiness since he met his _goddamn piglet._

Anyway. He realizes now he doesn’t really have an excuse. He _knew_ from the start what he was stepping in. He _knew_ , and perhaps that was the worst of all of this. He _knew_. And now he was blushing like crazy and averting his eyes, but there was no way, _no way_ he’d want it to stop. He tightened his grip on Otabek’s hand. He wasn’t the one who held it out, no. No, Otabek was. But he was the one clinging to it, so hard his knuckles were white. He was probably hurting Otabek but he _couldn’t let go._ Okay so how did it come to this. He didn’t know. _Fuck that I fully know how it happened._

“Stay close to me”, Otabek had said from the crowd, extending his hand to him. And Yurio had seized it. Like a lifeline. _Eh, getting cheesy again._ And the crowd had slowly disappeared but none of them had let go of each other’s hand. Because they both knew how and why it happened. Yurio peeked at Otabek. The tip of his nose and of his ears was red from the cold.  
“Are you cold?” Otabek said, and Yurio straightened up.  
“I’m Russian”, he retorted, like it answered his question.

Otabek stared at him, deadpanned.

“And I’m Kazakh. Are you cold?”

Yurio blushed, averted his eyes and shuffled closer.

“Yes.”

It wasn’t entirely true because his hand wrapped in Otabek’s was tingling with warmth.

“Here”, Otabek said, and Yurio’s heart froze when he pried his hand away.

But then Otabek was holding out his scarf and looping it around his neck, hiding half of his face behind it, and suddenly Yurio was melting.

“Thank you”, he murmured from behind the thick fabric.

Otabek smiled and Yurio shyly grabbed his hand again. The other gave it a squeeze, the corners of his mouth slightly up-turned. They started to walk again, until they arrived _there_. The beach of Barcelona, that reminded him so much of Hasetsu. From what he knew, Yuri and Viktor were taking a fly back there in the afternoon. They would probably start planning their wedding, even though Yuri didn’t win the Gold. He found himself smiling slightly. Things had changed. Things had changed so much. Things would change again for the next season. Viktor would be back on the ice. And Yuri would be there, too. Pichit would probably come again, after all, who could let go of victory after tasting it once?

He glanced at Otabek again. He was watching him quietly. This was new as well. They’d have to part, once they’d live Barcelona. Yurio would go back to St-Petersburg, to Yakov, to Lilia Baranovskaya, to his grandfather. Otabek would go back to Kazakhstan. But they would stay in contact, of course.

“Say”, he started, breaking the comfortable silence. “How do you feel about going to Hasetsu? Viktor promised me another choreography. And we could… have katsudon.”

Otabek smiled.

“I’d love that.”

_Things are changing_ , Yurio thought, _for something even brighter than the ice under the spotlights. Just wait, Viktor_. He squeezed Otabek’s hand. _Because I’ll do even better than you._

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it, don't hesitate to comment here or scream with me on my tumblr, bittodeath.tumblr.com.
> 
> Also if you're wondering about the title, it's because in French "Otarie" means sea-lion and I will never stop calling this ship Otari.


End file.
